


kill our way to heaven

by MadHatterNO7



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, Asexual Ichirou, Bisexual Riko, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 04:34:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8735068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadHatterNO7/pseuds/MadHatterNO7
Summary: Ichirou kills Riko in one universe, and kisses him in another.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically my excuse to write ten AUs at once and not elaborate on any of them. 
> 
> Brief mention of Kevin Day/Riko Moriyama in one of the universes. Don't worry, Riko isn't abusive and damaged in that universe. Also, the warning rape/non-con is not between Ichirou and Riko or Kevin and Riko.
> 
> Title from 'Kill Our Way to Heaven' - Michl.
> 
> All mistakes are mine.

Ichirou Moriyama can feel the movement of Riko’s jaw against his palm, a silent plead for mercy. Forgiveness, maybe. Or even a long awaited greeting, a _hi, nice to meet you_ that neither of them was given the chance to say. He pulls the trigger and lets Riko go.

 

Tetsuji does not lift his hand up to wipe the blood off his face. His eyes are cast down and he doesn’t look up when Ichirou passes the gun over. Nathaniel Wesninski is standing on the side, watching the scene unfold with cold, calculating eyes.

 

“You have cost the Ravens their coach and their captain. Are you satisfied?” He asks.

 

“Your people are safe, as are mine. Yes, I’m satisfied.” Nathaniel’s smile is nothing like Neil Josten’s, and Ichirou smiles back.

 

“Let them call you by whatever name they like. You will always be a Wesninski at heart. You are dismissed.”

 

Nathaniel exits the room and he looks like a weight has been lifted from him, his footsteps swifter and head a little higher. Ichirou recognises people like them when he sees one. A broken creature wrapped up in human skin, desperately trying to fit in with the others, all while clawing their way out of that skin. Nathaniel Wesninski is one of them. So was Riko Moriyama.

 

And in some way, Ichirou supposes he is too.

 

He checks his suit and fixes his gloves. He doesn’t turn to look at Riko’s slumped body or Tetsuji’s slumped back. He doesn’t turn to look at how Riko’s blood against the couch reminds him of all the times he’s seen Riko in his uniform. He leaves and doesn’t allow himself to think _if only things were different_.

 

He leaves and only attends Riko’s funeral for publicity.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They grow up side by side this time, Ichirou Moriyama and Riko Moriyama, the media’s favourite brothers.

 

 _They’re inseparable_ , they always say, _you can’t find one without the other._

 

They’re both raised to be great. Ichirou is born to inherit the throne, to continue the Moriyama business. Riko, on the other hand, is born to be an assassin, the head of the royal guard – the snake underneath the flower.

 

In this life, he doesn’t play exy. Instead, he plays with guns and knives and poisons and fire. He plays with whatever that would keep Ichirou alive.

 

“I know you worry about me.” Riko is perched on Ichirou’s desk with his legs crossed, playing with a switch knife. “But you sometimes forget that I’m the best you’ve got.”

 

“Even the mighty fall, brother mine,” Ichirou says, putting away the folders on his desk.

 

Riko hums in agreement and leans down to rub his cheek against Ichirou’s neck. His smile grows when Ichirou brings his hand up to curl it around the back of Riko’s neck.

 

“I have to go, Ichirou,” he says, but does nothing to move out of Ichirou’s touch.

 

“I know.” Ichirou lets out a soft sigh. “I know.”

 

They stay like that for a couple of seconds before Riko leans back and Ichirou’s hand drops from his neck. They don’t say anything after that and Ichirou watches Riko get up, shrug on his jacket and close the door behind him.

 

Files and reports turn up on Ichirou’s desk a week later but Riko Moriyama does not turn up at all. The reports all say _missing in action, presumed dead_ and Ichirou Moriyama breaks.

 

Because what’s a King without his Queen?

 

 

* * *

 

 

Riko Moriyama is sixteen and naïve when he comes out to his family as bisexual. They are normal people this time, no throne to inherit and no yakuza business to attend to. His father reacts badly and tries to hit him with a beer bottle that has been a constant since his mother left them.

 

The bottle misses and shatters into uneven pieces. He could feel the pain blooming as the shards cut open his skin. Ichirou is immediately by his side, assessing the damage and telling him to go to his room while he deals with their father.

 

Riko Moriyama is sixteen and scared when he sits on the edge of his bed, waiting for his father’s yelling to stop. He doesn’t know how much time has passed with his head spinning. He feels incredibly warm and cold at the same time and he’s pretty sure it’s not from the blood loss.

 

“Get out! Both of you! Get out of my house!”

 

Ichirou comes into his room with a first aid kit, locking the door behind him. It’s the first time Riko has ever seen his brother outwardly show that much anger. Ichirou Moriyama is always calm and collected, voice soft but full of underlying power when he speaks. He has never heard him raise his voice at anyone. Consider Riko surprised when Ichirou yelled _if he’s not your son, then I’m not your son either!_

 

“Riko,” Ichirou says, gesturing for him to come closer. Riko turns his head and lets his brother apply antiseptic on his cuts. The cuts aren’t very deep but they still need tending. Ichirou’s hands are surprisingly soft and gentle and Riko’s lips are trembling because tears suddenly threaten to fall down.

 

“…Ichirou, I –”

 

“Riko,” Ichirou cuts him off because he knows what Riko is going to say. “I want you to know that no matter _who you are_ , whether you like girls or boys or both or people who don’t identify as girls or boys – your feelings are still valid. You are still valid.”

 

“Brother…”

 

“If your father doesn’t accept the person you are, then he doesn’t deserve to be your father,” Ichirou says, sharply.

 

Riko tries to blink away the tears so he could see Ichirou’s facial expression a little better. It doesn’t really work, and more tears start to form. So he stops trying to keep it in and starts sobbing as he tightened his grip on his brother’s shirt.

 

“…Thank you.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Riko is taken away again, and Ichirou feels raw and naked for some unknown reason. He has long gotten used to his largely absent father who barely talks to him when he’s at home. He goes through tutors after tutors, picking up things and then perfecting them.

 

Constants, if you can count them as constants, aren’t really constants. They come and go, sometimes gone for a week or a month or more.

 

People don’t stick around. Basic survival instincts don’t allow them to.

 

He ties his hair back and checks his suit in the mirror. He leaves his room to go to breakfast and walks past a couple of gossiping maids before he realises something is wrong.

 

No one mentions his younger brother at home, just like how Tetsuji’s name is always murmured or swept under the carpet like he doesn’t exist.

 

Ichirou Moriyama is sixteen when he hears of his brother’s suicide. He is sixteen when he learns that his brother’s name is _Riko,_ not Jirou.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The age gap is two – almost three years this time. They’re in the same school, both with reputations that define them before people meet them in person. Ichirou is the student president who gets exceptionally good grades and is well liked by everyone. Riko is the younger brother with dyed hair and piercings who makes it a goal to break every single rule given to him.

 

Ichirou spends most of his afternoons studying in the library, or in a meeting discussing new plans for the school. Riko spends most of his school days out of school, picking fights and smoking in alleyways.

 

Ichirou supposes this is the difference between them. Ichirou tries his best to become perfect so it would catch the attention of their father, whereas Riko outright rejects the idea after years of suffering and says _fuck you_ to the person who’s never cared about him.

 

Ichirou supposes Riko is the one who is braver out of them two.

 

He remembers a time when they were close, when they spent nights pouring over unrealistic but possible scenarios, what they did at school, what they want to do when they’re older. _Move out and get out of this place_ , Riko said. Those times have disappeared in a blink of an eye. Words don’t come out of their mouths for each other anymore.

 

Ichirou Moriyama is at a meeting when someone tells him that Riko got into a fight and is now on the way to the hospital. _Apparently the injuries are grave_ , they say. _He might not make it_.

 

Riko dies on a Thursday.

 

The gang members who stabbed Riko four times are charged at a later date.

 

“Your pretty boy didn’t want you to get hurt so he challenged us to a fight instead,” one of them says to Ichirou as they are led out.

 

“Honestly, I’ve never seen someone so stupid before,” the other one sniggers.

 

Ichirou stiffens but he doesn’t turn to look at the people who has killed his brother. He stands tall, his back straight and his head held high, facial expression passive like the God he is in another universe.

 

He wouldn’t let them get under his skin. He wouldn’t let them undo Riko’s work.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ichirou Moriyama and Riko Moriyama are not brothers this time.

 

“Will I be expecting you for dinner tonight?” Riko asks, looking in the mirror as buttons up his shirt.

 

“I’ll be working overnight,” Ichirou replies, casually watching Riko from their bed. His hair is in a tangled mess, and he’s barely awake. Riko smiles and kisses Ichirou on the edge of his mouth.

 

“See you tomorrow then, love.”

 

Ichirou kisses him back and allows himself this.

 

There is, in fact, no tomorrow. The next time Ichirou sees Riko is when he’s being rushed to the operation room, and the amount of blood on him doesn’t remind Ichirou of all the surgeries he’s done. It reminds him of Riko lying motionless against a couch, a bullet hole through his head with tears that have yet to dry on his cheeks.

 

Ichirou paces up and down the hallway while his colleagues are in the operation room trying to fix whatever damage the car crash had on him.

 

They couldn’t, and Ichirou blames himself for it.

 

The hospital forgets about this incident until years later, someone asks, “Is Doctor Moriyama married? He has a wedding ring on his hand.”

 

And suddenly the people who has been working there for a while falls quiet, and someone manages to choke out something. “…The matching ring belonged to a lawyer who died on the operation table a few years back.”

 

“…Oh.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Riko is with their mother this time. This Riko has neither met Ichirou nor their father. He knows nothing about Tetsuji and exy. What he knows is about four languages, how to shoot a gun, and hundreds of ways to pass off as an innocent child who is not on the run with his mother.

 

Ichirou is almost fourteen when he hears his father yelling into his phone, something about _that bitch, should have –_ and _we can’t afford to have loose ends_ and finally, _kill them_.

 

Ichirou never hears about them again. He supposes his father’s men has done a great job.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Brother, I have a question.”

 

Ichirou is lacing Riko’s tie around his collar and he hums a syllable to let Riko know he’s paying attention. Riko purses his lips and stares at the back of Ichirou’s head in the mirror.

 

“Does it ever get better?”

 

Ichirou smiles. “What’s ‘it’?”

 

“Marriage,” Riko says, suddenly feeling constricted by the tie around his neck even though it hasn’t been tightened yet. “Loveless marriages. Arranged marriages.”

 

Ichirou’s fingers come to a stop. “Yes,” he says, after a moment of hesitation.

 

Riko can’t stop the laughter from bubbling up. He leans closer, doesn’t allow himself to press a soft kiss on Ichirou’s lips. Instead he murmurs _liar_ and watches his brother’s lips quirk up in a small, amused smile.

 

After that it feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. It feels like being able to breathe again. He steps back and examines himself in the mirror. The wedding flowers and daffodils are standing in the corner behind him while he pins his boutonnière onto his suit.

 

He looks at his brother and he doesn’t ask _how is your wife?_

He doesn’t say _let’s run away together_.

 

“Come on. I can’t leave the bride at the altar,” he chooses to say instead.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ichirou Moriyama is standing at court and he’s being charged with the torture and murder of his uncle, Tetsuji Moriyama.

 

Riko would have been disappointed with him but he’s gone now. Buried underneath layers of snow after being assaulted and killed by their uncle. Ichirou thinks about how Tetsuji begged for his mercy and forgiveness but all he can hear is Riko’s _please don’t_ and _I’m sorry, uncle, please – I’ll be good_.

 

Ichirou decides he had let Tetsuji die a merciful death.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ichirou is seventy and half way in a retirement home. He hasn’t met Riko in this life, and he supposes it’s a mercy. A blessing, maybe.

 

He sits in his chair with a blanket thrown across his lap and his granddaughter comes to visit him. She’s brought her newborn son with her this time and she lets Ichirou hold him while she goes unpack all the food she’s brought with her.

 

He understands as soon as the baby start to squirm in his arms.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ichirou is the one at gunpoint this time.

 

Riko slowly raises the gun to his head and Ichirou closes his eyes.

 

He wishes for oblivion.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They’re on a run across the country on a cheap rental car they stole from the town two hours over. Ichirou laughs when Riko turns up the pop song that’s playing on the radio. Ichirou hums in parts where he doesn’t know the lyrics but Riko makes up the lyrics as he goes.

 

“So how are we going to do this without being caught?” Ichirou asks, and even though he said _caught_ , they both know it roughly means _killed_.

 

Riko looks over and a small, teasing smile appears. “Maybe you should cut your hair short.”

 

Ichirou looks at the hair that he’s been growing since he was young in the wing mirror. He shrugs, uncaring. “Maybe.”

 

Riko’s expression falls and he looks absolutely horrified at the idea. Ichirou laughs and tries to cover it up as a cough.

 

They stop at a diner for lunch and the waitress watches, amused as the brothers berate each other for ordering just desserts for lunch. She rolls her eyes when she sees Riko kicking Ichirou under the table.

 

They decide to drive to the beach after lunch. Neither of them has been to the beach before, and all they know are the countless pictures and recounts of it. It’s not the end of the world but they would still like to see it before everything disappears.

 

The drive there isn’t as carefree as it was before but they turn up the music in hope of drowning the world out. They arrive by the sea just as the sun is setting, and they marvel at how beautiful it looks, reflecting the reds and oranges in the sky.

 

Ichirou is still entranced by the view when Riko pulls off his shirt and pants, leaving only his boxers on. Ichirou raises an eyebrow at that but he pulls off his own shirt as Riko runs into the water.

 

As soon as Ichirou steps out of his pants, Riko flicks water at him and suddenly a war is declared. Riko splutters when Ichirou splashes water into his face, and Riko dunks Ichirou’s head into the water.

 

When the sky finally dims, they are sitting side by side, salt drying in their hair and sand itchy on their skin.

 

“What’s your favourite colour?” Ichirou suddenly asks, breaking the silence.

 

“What? Are we playing twenty questions now?” Riko is unamused, even though after a second he answers, like he took time to consider it. “Blue.”

 

“I thought it’d be red or black,” Ichirou says, a little surprised.

 

“Just because we’re obliged to wear red and black doesn’t mean I _like_ it,” he laughs and Ichirou’s glad he’s not upset.

 

They spend the evening asking each other questions. Things like _tea or coffee?_ and _what’s your favourite flower?_ and _what would you do if a zombie apocalypse broke out?_

 

All trivial things that they couldn’t learn bit by bit because they’ve never been given a chance to learn about each other.

 

Then finally, Riko licks his chapped lips, tasting the slightly bitter and salty sea water that’s dried on his mouth, and he asks, “Are you attracted to girls or boys?”

 

Ichirou falls silent. Riko wonders if the question was too much.

 

After a long while, just before Riko says _never mind, that was inappropriate of me_ , he starts speaking. “I… I don’t feel sexually attracted to people. But I suppose, in a romantic sense, I’m attracted to both.”

 

Riko nods and looks down onto his hands. “I’m bisexual.”

 

Ichirou is tempted to say _I know_ even though he doesn’t know. Not in this life, anyway. Instead, he wraps an arm around Riko’s shoulder and pulls him closer.

 

They don’t say _I love you_ or _thank you for being by my side when the world is ending_ or _you’re worth every single pain_ but they know.

 

Ichirou wakes up first and he shakes Riko awake. The sun has dyed the sky with oranges and reds again, but this time it’s softer and gentler.

 

They stay like that until the sky returns to its normal colour.

 

“They’ve found us,” Riko whispers, his voice slightly breathless.

 

Ichirou exhales. “I know.”

 

Riko turns to press a kiss against Ichirou’s mouth and Ichirou tightens his hold on Riko’s hand. They can almost hear the summer fireworks going on around them in another life.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Riko is a professional exy player who has two loving adoptive parents and has never heard of the name Moriyama.

 

Ichirou watches Riko through the TV screen, reads countless reports and updates written by his people and the media and he doesn’t contact him.

 

Riko is safer and happier this way.

 

At least, that’s what he tells himself when he hears Riko is getting married with another famous exy player. One who goes by the name Kevin Day.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ichirou Moriyama is barely six when his father hands him an unusually heavy bundle of cotton and it doesn’t take him long to realise it’s a baby carefully wrapped up. He is startled when it squirms, not because it moves, but because its hand is slightly peeking out of the blanket, a fist not even enough to fill Ichirou’s small hands.

 

“This is your brother, Riko.”

 

 _Oh. So it’s a he,_ Ichirou thinks. He looks at his scrunched up face and his stomach goes all funny. He silently makes a promise to himself to protect Riko for the rest of his life.

 

And so he isn’t surprised when he pushes Riko away from the car that’s about to hit his little brother.

 

The last thing he hears is Riko screaming his name. The last thing he remembers is how his breath catches and heart swells with so much love when he sees Riko.

 

He doesn’t remember if the last thing he’s ever said to Riko was _I’m sorry_ or _I love you_. He hopes he said both.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ichirou Moriyama is standing in front of Riko again, arm reaching for the gun. He is aware of the gazes of the people in the room, Nathaniel in particular.

 

Riko’s eyes aren’t wide with fear this time. He has his eyes closed, eyelids fluttering as tears roll down his cheeks. Riko’s lips quiver as Ichirou comes closer.

 

He touches Riko’s cheek, as soft as he can. _The last comfort_ , Riko supposes. Even if it’s through a leather glove. Even if this is one of a thousand lifetimes and _even_ if he knows the ending to every single one of those lifetimes.

 

Ichirou can feel the movement of Riko’s jaw against his palm, this time a _see you in another lifetime_ instead of a _good to finally meet you_. This time an _I_ _love you_ instead of an _I_ _wanted to be loved_.

 

Ichirou brings the gun up and presses it against Riko’s temple.

 

He fires at Tetsuji instead.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Tumblr @[arentwelost](http://arentwelost.tumblr.com)


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